Blood Red Rose
by dizzykitty
Summary: In the art of war, if you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear approaching battles. But if you know only yourself and not the enemy, for every victory, there will also be defeat. She thought she had prepared for anything on her path for vengeance. Making a deal with the devil was just one step, falling in love had never been a part of the plan.


**Summary** : - In the art of war, if you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear approaching battles. But if you know only yourself and not the enemy, for every victory, there will also be defeat. She thought she had prepared for anything on her path for vengeance. Making a deal with the devil was just one step, falling in love had never been a part of the plan. Beware the blood rose's thorn.

 **Disclaimer** : The recognisable people, places, events, and spells in this story do not belong to me, but to J. K. Rowling. I'm not making a profit off this story involving them, nor claiming ownership of them.

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At the tender age of seven Rose Potter was mentally capable of comprehending several concepts. Her name Rose Dorea Potter an uncomplicated notion, it belonged to her and nobody could take it away from her, no matter how hard they tried. Her parents no longer living an easy if not painful concept explained living with her relatives. The idea of having to work for her relatives, her Aunt, Uncle and cousin was one of relative simplicity. Her room, the cupboard under the stairs, was small and dark but it was hers, her refuge from the near constant nagging and taunting of her relatives was just as easy to understand. But it was her relatives hatred for her were what she found herself thinking more and more upon these days. In her relatively short life she couldn't remember _her_ doing anything in particular to cause such hatred from them.

She was better than Dudley Dursley in school, quicker to pick up new things and eager to learn more. But neither her Aunt nor Uncle appreciated her showing up their _precious_ boy. She was quiet and hard working and didn't cause any fuss, often or not others complemented her in front of her Aunt at how she was such a sweet girl, but again it wasn't something her Aunt appreciated.

She supposed in truth they hated her because she was a freak.

She didn't mean to be, and she certainly didn't understand how or why she was.

Certainly she hadn't meant to turn her teacher's hair blue, or end up on the school roof without any reasonable explanation.

And whilst she wanted to escape Piers Polkiss she hadn't meant to cause the dustbins to try and eat him alive, (though he survived unharmed she might add if not somewhat scarred by the experience), and bringing the dead bird back to life had been a complete accident, she didn't mean to do it in the kitchen. She supposed in some twisted way she was a 'freak' an 'abomination' just like they said but surely there had to be a more logical explanation than simply because _they said so._

Perhaps she was like a Jedi or a Sith, having only just watched Star Wars in school, they had magical powers called the force, but that was too much a ridiculous concept.

Magic didn't exist. And neither did the force.

Uncle Vernon said so. He had been rather certain of that fact when Dudley had come home singing about how he wanted to be a Jedi and have magical force like powers. In fact if she was going to be honest, it was the only time she had ever seen Uncle Vernon shout at Dudley with ferociousness he reserved for her.

And yet a tiny fire in her chest, hidden behind the relative safety of her small rib cage, only burned brighter, flared hotter with desire for him to be wrong, and for magic to exist.

Not that she would ever share that desire with anyone. It was hers and hers alone.

It was how she found herself late at night, when her relatives were asleep, curiously seeing if _she_ had Jedi powers. She placed one of her small toy soldiers on the shelves above and sat on her thin mattress and stared and stared.

The logical part of her mind said she couldn't do it.

That such a thing was impossible.

Magic or the Force did not exist.

And yet that small fire inside of her burned away with a desire far stronger than she had ever felt. She couldn't help but wonder of all the strange things that _she_ had already done.

She couldn't help but dream and believe.

And then she felt it.

Almost like a moment of peace.

A humming underneath her pulse.

And slowly the toy soldier rose slowly from the shelf and moved towards her.

She did it.

Needless to say she didn't sleep very well that night. Or any nights after her. Her desire having grown tenfold drove her on and on until she was practicing every night.

Whatever one decided to call it. Magic or Jedi-like-force it was real and it was hers.

It was clear to her that her relatives weren't like her. They couldn't be.

But had her parents been like her?

Had they known what this wonderful thing was, had they experienced it, felt it?

It was with those thoughts that Rose couldn't help but feel more alone than ever before in the dark confinements of her cupboard.

 _Am I really alone?_

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Opening them slowly she pushed back her fear of loneliness. She had been alone and unloved for as long as she could remember. It wasn't a new feeling and it was something she had learnt to live with.

Her relatives had no desire for her to be really a part of their family and so she no longer had a desire to be either.

As she watched the soldier float in front of her eyes turning slowly she fell just a little bit in love.

She didn't need them, not when she had this.

And so she vowed she was going to learn everything she could and she was going to be impressive.

She would never again be the girl in the cupboard.

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At the age of eleven she found out the truth.

She was a witch.

The truth wasn't perhaps as impressive as a Jedi or a Sith within an Empire that was both large and vast.

But it was the truth.

But with every truth came the harsh reality and her world came crashing down around her.

"Can you repeat that please?"

Hagrid, the giant who'd knocked down the worn wooden oak that had been the door of the shack in the sea, frowned behind his wild hair and beard. His beetle black eyes blinked slowly, brow furrowing.

"You-know-who killed your' parent's and he tried to kill you to."

"Why?"

"No one knows," Hagrid admitted

"And what happened to him? Vol- sorry I mean you-know-who?"

"No one knows. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you."

"I see."

She was no longer alone, it seemed. But with others like her it appeared she had gained an enemy that was perhaps as dangerous as Dark Vader and Emperor Palpatine combined if not quite as impressive. She knew she would have to eventually stop referring to this new world she found herself belonging to as Star Wars characters, but it was that faithful film that had opened her eyes to the endless possibilities she was capable off and she wasn't quite ready to let that go.

And despite the fact this whole new world lay before her, she couldn't help but feel even more alone than when to her knowledge she had been the only one like her.

Her mind turned over the evenings revelations.

She supposed to some degree that it came as no surprise that _they_ knew about her being a witch. She had known for some time _they_ had known she was different, but them knowing the whole truth made a lot more sense.

Just one more thing that had given them power over her and she had learnt long ago that the Dursleys enjoyed that power. The power they held over her; controlling when she ate, slept, washed, and went to school. Keeping her ignorant of the truth must have been a dream come true for them.

Though she supposed them knowing also explained the loathing and the punishments whenever something unexplainable happened around her.

She was their antithesis to their ordinary. Everything about her was so drastically different, and if it was one thing the Dursleys despised it was _different._ For years she had wondered why, of course that had changed the moment she had moved the toy soldier in her cupboard long ago.

Things had soon changed though the more control she gained over her abilities.

Because as much as they hated her, Rose had also come to realise that they also feared her. Turning pale whenever they discovered an 'incident' the emotion that had danced in their eyes whenever she uttered the word 'magic', the instinctive flinch whenever she came to close to them. They feared her, they feared magic and they feared what she was capable of.

It had given her a power she had never had before.

The Dursleys had gone from being the people that she cooked for, cleaned for and did other chores for. They had gone from the people who locked her in the cupboard, alone in the dark with only spiders for company. Who belittled her, taunted, insulted and loathed her. Who had never shown her affection, soothed her ills or injuries, which had never shown her love, comfort, encouragement or tolerance? Who had always ensured she was without friends so that she would forever be alone.

Never again had she feared them.

Whilst she had taken no pleasure from their fear as they had done from hers, she had come to accept it if it meant that for once in her life they would leave her alone. If fear gave her peace then she could live with that.

If fear gave her the freedom she had so desperately craved then she would accept it.

 _Magic!_

The questions rolled through her mind. She felt she had reached her limits of what she was capable of on her own. Knowing that there was a whole school of learning available to her was a dream being answered. _What else would she be capable of? What else could she achieve?_ The possibilities were endless.

But with the truth came the startling fact about her parents.

It hurt like most truths did.

Sharp as knives the words had struck true, shattered what little knowledge she had ever held about them and left her feeling uncertain and confused. Of course Hagrid was completely unaware of the turmoil he had unwittingly caused.

And for that she couldn't blame him, but even so she was confused over the surge of emotions that _that_ particular revelation stirred deep inside of her.

Sorrow!

Pain!

Anger! Anger over so many things, one more lie in a string of lies that her Aunt and Uncle deemed to tell her and anger at herself, angry for the years of blame and resentment that had been aimed at her parents.

But most of all...hatred!

 _Voldemort!_

She hated him.

 _Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion._ Hagrid's words echoed through her mind. She was aware of his eyes watching her, but she gave no indication she had noticed. To consumed in her own thoughts.

She needed answers.

Answers to so many questions and she had a feeling that it would be up to her to discover them. Something she was more than use to, the Dursleys had forbidden questions and she had always been a curious child. To find them out she had sought the answers out herself. And if along the way she discovered that Voldemort was alive then she would deal with him.

With a new found determination, an iron will Rose made a promise to herself.

A hunger for knowledge!

She wanted to know everything. She wanted to know no bounds.

A hunger for power!

She never wanted to be weak again. She never wanted another person to hold power over her again.

A hunger for vengeance!

She would work hard, she would be relentless and she would have her vengeance.

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 **A/N:** I apologise for starting a new story. I was busy working on the next chapter of Daughter of the Blood when this idea interrupted my trail of thought. Deciding not to fight it I followed it through and see where it took me.

Whilst I do eventually intend to carry this idea on, I can't promise when a next update will be as I will be focusing mainly on Daughter of the Blood.

I hope you enjoy this first chapter.


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